Editor's Note: Dick Weinman's life in an ALF parallel's his wife's life in an Alzheimer's Facility. His feelings about his wife will appear for several weeks in his poems and essays.
I gaze into your picture,
Trying to see through your eyes,
But . . .
You hide it well, the black corruption of your brain,
The darkness of your mind’s night,
The in and out shadows of what once was and now is:
That web of sticky strands – thick fiber
That blocks the flow of memory needed to take your mind out of the night,
And lead it into the light of recognition and remembrance.
I look deeply, my eyes penetrate your face, and I see
Some striving to meet my gaze, a push to reach out, some slight surge of memory,
Awareness of the bond between us . . .
. . . the delicate meanderings along the confusing web,
Bringing a glimpse of light into your mind’s night.